


Smile

by vintagevalentinexx



Series: Smile [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:52:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9589604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagevalentinexx/pseuds/vintagevalentinexx
Summary: So…I wanted to try my hand at a Dean fic so here it is! :)  If you guys like it, I’m ready to dive into a second part!!  I really hope I kept Dean in character, because I had a super struggle writing this, but I definitely wanted to see it through.This fic is loosely based on the song “Smile,” which was originally by Charlie Chaplin.  I listened to this really emotional, gorgeous version by Judy Garland, here.It’s also based in part on the quote that Frank Devereaux (remeber him?  that paranoid dude? :P) said to Dean about smiling.As always, please let me know what you think! :)





	

**Author's Note:**

> So…I wanted to try my hand at a Dean fic so here it is! :) If you guys like it, I’m ready to dive into a second part!! I really hope I kept Dean in character, because I had a super struggle writing this, but I definitely wanted to see it through. 
> 
> This fic is loosely based on the song “Smile,” which was originally by Charlie Chaplin. I listened to this really emotional, gorgeous version by Judy Garland, here.
> 
> It’s also based in part on the quote that Frank Devereaux (remeber him? that paranoid dude? :P) said to Dean about smiling.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think! :)

“I’m tired of this shit, Dean!  How long have I waited around for you?!”

“Sweetheart, I—“

“I’ve had enough.”  Your voice grew quieter.  “It’s always been about everything else.  Sam, Cas, Charlie, your car.  I can’t remember the last time anything has been about me.  I can’t do this anymore.”

“(Y/N)…(Y/N), please…”

You blinked away the tears.  “I’m tired, Dean.  I’m so very tired of all of this.  You don’t even let me hunt anymore.  How am I supposed to live?  Who am I supposed to be?  I love you, but I can’t do this anymore.”

“We can fix this. Please…please (Y/N).  Don’t go.”

“Please don’t try to find me, Dean.  It’s better that way for the both of us.”

* * *

_Smile though your heart is aching_  
Smile even though it’s breaking.  
When there are clouds in the sky  
you’ll get by.  
If you smile through your fear and sorrow  
Smile and maybe tomorrow  
You’ll see the sun come shining through  
For you.

* * *

That had been three weeks ago.  Dean stumbled back into the bunker after another whiskey filled night, miserable as ever.  Sam looked up at him from the long table, up to his elbows in research for the next job.  He furrowed his eyebrows; it had been a long time since he had seen Dean so distraught.  He completely understood though.  Anyone who had eyes could see that Dean was head over heels in love with you.  Sam knew that Dean had loved Lisa, but the moment he laid eyes on you it was as if the entire world stopped.  He thought you had felt the same, but you had moved all of your stuff out of the bunker, and didn’t leave any contact information.

Sam stood up, helping his brother into a chair.

“Dean, you have to come out of this.  We have a job to do, and I need to know you’re going to be at your best when we’re out there.”

Dean looked up at Sam, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he chucked to himself. 

 “Save it, Sammy.  I messed up.  I messed up bad and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to make it right.  I let her walk right out of my life and I did nothing but be an ass to her the entire time.”    

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, sitting down across from his brother as he poured the both of them another glass of whiskey.  They clinked glasses as the downed the liquor.

* * *

_Light up your face with gladness,_  
Hide every trace of sadness.  
Although a tear may be ever so near  
That’s the time you must keep on trying  
Smile, what’s the use of crying.  
You’ll see that life is still worthwhile-  
If you just smile.

* * *

It had been three weeks since you saw him.  Those hypnotizing green eyes that could make you do almost anything.  Thoughts of rolling around in bed with him every night haunted your every thought, remembering how long you would spend counting every single freckle on his face.  You took another shot at the bar as you sat there, scanning the place and watching the people.  It was getting increasingly more difficult to watch couples together, knowing that you had that up until very recently.  You knew it was for the best.   _Was it?_  You were so tired of Dean treating you like an accessory, like just a pretty face.  You were a hunter way before you met him and you knew you’d be one until the die you met your maker.  On one hand, you understood the need to protect something that was precious to you; something you loved that you wanted to keep safe, but it was getting ridiculous.  Dean became furious at you when you tried to run out on a salt and burn, telling you that it was too dangerous.  That was the last straw for you.

There was no denying it, though.  You were still hopelessly in love with him.  This was for the best, though.  You just knew it.  The monsters and demons were starting to realize the relationship that the both of you had, and they were figuring out how to use it to their advantage.  Hunters just shouldn’t be romantically involved.  No one gets hurt that way, and no one gets killed.    
Despite all of this, the gravitational pull you had towards Dean was indisputable. 

 You knew it the moment you met him that his soul was supposed to be paired with yours.

* * *

_“Looks like you could use some help there, cowboy.”  
_

_“Yeah, yeah, gee thanks, sweetheart.  Mind helping me out here?”  
_

_You chuckled as you circled him, chained up by a siren that you just ganked.  
_

_“She did quite the number on you, huh?  Tell me pretty boy, do you like to go home with all the monsters you’re supposed to be hunting?”  
_

_“Are you going to help me or not, sweetheart?”  
_

_“I guess I could…it would be a shame to leave you hanging like this…”  
_

_He rolled his eyes at your terrible joke as you chuckled to yourself, freeing him from his restraints.  He rubbed his wrists as you looked around; making sure that the threat was neutralized.  When your gaze finally returned to his, his eyes were softer, full of a tenderness that you hadn’t seen before.  
_

_He outstretched his hand to you.  “Dean Winchester.  And what do I call a badass lady hunter like yourself?”  
_

_It was your turn to roll your eyes as you shook his hand.  
_

_“It’s (Y/N).  And you smell disgusting.”  
_

_He smirked at you, taking in your form.  “How’s about I freshen up and buy you a drink, (Y/N)?  You know…to thank you.”  
_

_You shook your head.  “I’ve heard about your reputation, Winchester.  And I’m not interested.”  
_

_“We’ll see, sweetheart.”  
_

_“Don’t call me that.”_

* * *

A month after that, the two of you got together.  And shortly after that you moved into the bunker with him and Sam.  But now, now everything had gone to hell.  Dean had become obsessed with the Darkness.  He needed to find it ( _her?_ ).  

You had no idea what to believe anymore.  You had weathered so many trials and tribulations with him, been through so many things.  You stayed by him when he went full demon, knowing fully how he cheated on you, the things he said to you.   _You know I think you’re gorgeous, sweetheart, but I’m just not a one woman kind of demon._

You were there for almost everything.  When Sam was finally able to cure Dean, that was when things changed.  He became super protective of you, and wouldn’t let you go anywhere.  He yelled at you for wanting to go to the grocery store.  At first it wasn’t too bad, but things continued to escalate.  You had finally had enough when you had that blowout with him.  

Yet your heart ached.  It was growing increasingly more difficult to wake up alone every morning, but you knew you had to be strong, not just for yourself, but also for Dean.   _Stay strong.  Stay strong.  Stay strong._

* * *

_“No cupcake. What I did when I was 26 and came home to find my wife and two kids gutted on the floor. Decide to be fine til the end of the week. Make yourself smile because you’re alive and that’s your job. And do it again the next week.”_

* * *

Dean couldn’t get Frank Devereaux’s words out of his head.  He sat straight up in bed, his hands rubbing at his face as he groaned.  He had finally had enough.  He sprang up, grabbing his duffel, and started to stuff his clothes into it, grumbling as Sam entered his room.

“Where are you going?”

“Where the hell do you think I’m going, Sammy?”

“She said she didn’t want to see you.”

“Don’t care.”

“She’s not going to let you in.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Sam sighed, feeling bad for his brother.  He had never seen him have it so bad for a woman before.  He picked up another large book as he sat down at the table in the library, hearing the roar of the Impala driving off in the distance.

Dean gripped the steering wheel of the Impala tightly, his mind completely focused on one thing, one mission, one person.   **You**.

* * *

You down one last glass of wine before you started to get ready for bed.  Hopefully the wine would help you settle your nerves, your thoughts lingering on the one person in the entire universe that it shouldn’t be. 

* * *

Dean walked victoriously out of a bar in the middle of God-knows-where in Tennessee, holding a crumpled slip of paper in his hand.  He had been hot on your trail, asking around with mutual hunter acquaintances, ducking into bars, and somehow he finally found you.  He looked at that little piece of paper in his hand, your address scrawled on it in barely legible handwriting.  He gripped it tightly as he nearly threw himself back into his car, hoping to whoever was up in Heaven that you would at least let him in.  At the very least talk to him through the door.  Because if there was one thing that he knew was true, it was that things were not supposed to end that way between the both of you.  You had stayed with him through hell and back and there was no way he was going to let you go without a fight, even if he had to fight you for it.

* * *

You tidied up a little in your small apartment, clad only in a tanktop and panties, just about ready to turn in for the night when you hear a knock at the door.  You furrow your eyebrows.   _Who the hell is knocking at this time of night.  I don’t even know anybody in this bumblefuck of a town._  You grab your gun off the coffee table, taking quiet steps towards the door, cursing everything as you wish you had a peephole on the door.   _Great, I guess I’ll just wing it._  Gun in one hand, you pull the door open wide, gun cocked right in the knocker’s face.  It takes you a moment, but you finally lower your weapon, eyes full of confusion and sadness.

“How did you find me?”  
….  
….  
….

“Hello, sweetheart.” 


End file.
